


discovering dreams

by wortfee



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, mostly fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 21:59:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5514794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wortfee/pseuds/wortfee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marc finds love, food, football and a new nickname in Barcelona. And after some time he also finds his soulmate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	discovering dreams

**Author's Note:**

  * For [neyvenger (jjjat3am)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjjat3am/gifts).
  * Inspired by [only fools](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5377484) by [neyvenger (jjjat3am)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjjat3am/pseuds/neyvenger). 



> for neyvenger. because she deserves something nice and lots of love and i kinda fell in love with terfinha because of her, back in the day when i didn't follow her and just scrolled through her ter stegen tag. talking with you is like talking with a muse, every word that comes out of your mouth is like inspirational somehow. unfortunately i don't have time for all these wonderful ideas and i am kinda lame, but anyway this here is just for you. i enjoyed being your secret santa so much and i hope you have a great time and you also enjoy this <3 (plus it's fluffy pls be proud of me)
> 
> merry christmas. <3

Marc decides to call Marco that night. He isn't sure why, maybe because Marco always understood him, understood the crushing weight of not knowing where exactly your soulmate was, but certainly knowing that they're far away from you. Pale grey lines, words he doesn't understand, Portuguese and Spanish, and people teasing him about never finding his soulmate, while they're caressing their deep black lines in familiar letters.

It's a cruel thing to do, to use your soulmate against you like that, but they live in a cruel world anyway.

"Hello?" Marco's voice is hoarse and he was probably just sleeping, but Marc only feels guilty for a second.

"Barcelona made me an offer and - and I think I'm going to take it," he says. Just that and nothing more. Marco will understand, he always does.

"Barcelona is a beautiful city," Marco says after a while. "Some beautiful people live in Barcelona, probably. But you won't know that until you go there." He says nothing more, just breathes.

They both know what Marc is really saying, that he hopes to find his soulmate there between the mess of pale grey lines and world class football and Spanish food. They both also know what Marco is really saying, that he hopes for him he'll find his soulmate there too, that he should try it. Marco's slow breathing reminds him of their nights they used to share at Gladbach, slow and steady, quiet and comfortable. It reminds of him hugs after won matches, Marco's breathing heavily in his ear. It's like their friendship, slow because there's never any rush between them and steady because they don't need to talk to each other everyday, but they both know that they won't forget their shared memories.

"Thank you," Marc says and he's smiling and hoping that Marco can hear his smile through the phone call. He probably can. It's Marco after all. Marco, who knows everything about his childhood dreams about his soulmate and football, who knows about the pale grey lines and his loneliness sometimes, when it seems like all the people around him just have to go out of their house to find their soulmate, while he never can drive through all of Spain or all the other countries in the world in which you speak Spanish and Portuguese, and has to settle for hope.

_~~_

Barcelona smells of love. Maybe it's because of the weather, sun shining and tinting his cheeks red, or because of the smiles, all bright and welcoming. It probably has something to do with his pale grey lines which aren't pale grey anymore but a strong, deep black. It almost feels like they're pulsing, the words slurring faster than ever between Portuguese and Spanish. He picks up some of them, got to know the messy scrawl that is his soulmate's handwriting. Barcelona smells like love and looks like hope, perfect blue sky and a sun that's similing gently down on him. The city is buzzing with energy and maybe that's why the lines are buzzing too, everything is pulsing in this city, the people, the air, even the ground he's walking on.

He texts Marco a quick "The city is really beautiful" and he only gets two kiss-emojis as an answer and just rolls his eyes because this is Marco and he'll never learn how to text like an adult.

"The lines are black" is his next text and he gets an "call me when u find them or i'll rip ur head off" back.

Next, he calls his mother and carefully ignores all the question about the turned black lines. He doesn't want her to know yet, that he's closer than ever because it'd crush him if he didn't find them here, but it would probably destroy his mother who never wanted him to become her like her - still not understanding the lines in Japanese on her arm, still not being able to ignore the empty feeling inside her chest, even though she loved his dad and his dad loved her.

"I'll be alright," he tells her before he hangs up. And he really believes he will.

~~

Marc is nervous. He hates to admit because he doesn't get nervous, he's Marc-André ter Stegen and confidence flows through his veins. But he can't help it, the nagging feeling inside him when he stares up at the training grounds, so much bigger than everything else that was in his life before. His wrist is still pulsing, even more now and it makes him even more nervous to think that maybe his soulmate is someone on the team and he'll meet all of them now, _oh god._

Marc breathes. Deeply in and out. In and out. In and out. He feels himself calming down again, the nagging feeling fading away. He can do this. He definitely can do this because these are his dreams and he never was one to give up on his dreams just because he was too afraid to live them. It's his first training session and he may or not may find his soulmate in there, but he definitely will live his dream with or without his soulmate. It was something he promised himself before he got into the plane to Barcelona. Still living his dream, even if he didn't find his soulmate because life was not all about that. He also promised himself not to be as stupid as Marco, who needed way too long to realize that Aubameyang was his soulmate. The whole world knew it before them.

Marc breathes deeply in and out one more time, then he goes to the building that he hopes is the one with the changing rooms. _I'll be alright_ echoes in his head. And he will, he has to because he hates lying to his mother more than anything.

(And after the training, Marc doesn't feel nervous at all anymore because there were some embarrassing moments like Lionel freaking Messi warming him up with free kicks and Marc not being able to keep the ball out of the goal, but it's worth it when he smiles at the end and it feels good when Messi says: "Nobody wants me to do their warm-ups, usually," and he smiles a bit more and Marc smiles too, and he could get used to this, could get used to the hugs he gets from all sides, from the brush of Rafinha's beard against his cheek, from Ivan's bright smile as he welcomes him and from Pique's loud rambling that he doesn't understand. Marc didn't even dare to look at his wrist once, a dark green wristband wrapped tightly around it.)

~~

The longer Marc is in Barcelona, the more he actually understands what is written on his wrist. He tried to learn Spanish after his sixteenth birthday, but his school only taught French and Italian and English, so he spent nights hovering over textbooks when he could afford it. He craved to know what was on his wrist, but school and training were hard and sometimes he had to wait weeks before he was able to open his textbook again, too exhausted after practising for hours in the rain.

When Marc wakes up these days, he spends more time watching the words on his wrist than anything else. He even understands some of the Portuguese now, thanks to Dani, who can't manage to speak with him for more than five minutes without switching between languages. He only allows himself to linger on his wrist in the mornings, though, the rest of the day he wraps his wristband around it. He never goes out without it, not after Xavi and Iniesta told him about crazy fans and the crazy press.

It's a lot about football and nice weather and something about bonsais that he doesn't really understand, so Marc still hopes that his soulmate is someone on the team. Even if that would be kind of awkward because Geri would tease them all the time and Dani would joke too much about them, but he can't know - he never sees his handwriting or any handwriting at all on his teammates because they always wear the wristbands when he's around, even in the shower.

So, when Marco asks him after a few months if he found them, he replies with a quick "no" and tosses his phone away.

~~

Marc sits alone in the bus, his legs stretched out on the other seat, but still tangling from the edge. Behind him are Neymar and Dani, joking around and making him laugh. They won the game, but it was close.

"Ter, move your legs away."

Rafa stands in front of the seat and looks down on him. "Don't call me Ter," says Marc and swings his legs from the seat. Rafinha only rolls his eyes. "You love it when I call you Ter," he says smugly and cuddles next to him, his head leaning on Marc's shoulder. Marc says nothing, partly because he's tired and partly because it's true. Ter isn't a name, it's just a syllable actually, but Rafa started it one day and now half of the squad calls him Ter. Apart from Leo, bless him.

"You played well today," Rafa hums and Marc can feel the vibration of the words against his shoulder.

"Thank you," he doesn't really need to say anything else, not with Rafa cuddling closer to him. His body is warm. Marc feels good with Rafa leaning on his shoulder, the background noise of his teammates joking around, the warm feeling in his chest after a win, nudging Rafa until he lifts his head and looks up to him only to sling his arm around him, so that both of them are more comfortable. Marc suddenly looks at Rafinha's wristband. It's not as tight as his and it's not dark green either, but a very clear blue that reminds Marc of something he can't quite remember.

Marc closes his eyes and smiles.

~~

It's their team lunch and Marc sits between Bravo and Rafinha. Bravo is talking with Dani, who is at the other end of the room, and then there's Luis, who argues loudly with Neymar about his tea. "This is stupid," Ney says and theatricality throws his arms in the air. "It's just tea, man, you only drink it because you miss caffeine and this is the closest you get to it!"

Rafa is unusally quiet, every other time he would join the discussion and probably back Neymar up. As always. Marc glances sometimes worried at him, and Iniesta and Xavi noticed of course, so he tries not to be so obvious about it. He's just worried about Rafa, all the time, but especially when he seems tired and small like today.

"Hey," he says and nudges him gently, "What's with you today?" Rafa just shakes his head. Marc answers with a Don't fuck with me stare, so Rafa opens his mouth, closes it again and then finally begins to talk in a hushed voice. "I miss my brother," he sounds empty, as if he filled all of his love in the heart of his brother and now that Thiago isn't there anymore, he has nothing left. "I miss him so much and it hurts."

"Call him," is the only thing Marc replies because he knows how it is, knows how much the voice of a missed person can the soothe the pain.

"Come on, I'll say that you're not feeling well if somebody asks, go call him." Rafa smiles at him, and kisses him on the cheek.

"Thank you, Ter," he says and there's something in his eyes that doesn't even let Marc complain about the nickname. Ivan asks after a few minutes where Rafinha is, but Marc only shrugs and says something about him being sick and not feeling so well. They either believe him or just let his lie slide, but nobody asks again, not even after Rafa comes back after an hour looking happy and giddy and joining Gerard and Adriano in _Who can hold the ball longer in the air._

Rafa loses terribly, but Marc still claps him on his shoulder when he comes back to the table.

~~

It was an accident. The other Marc spilled tea over his wrist and his wristband was soaked with the hot beverage. Marc scrambled it off while Bartra apologised hastily.

"It's not a problem, nothing happened," he says and weaves his wrist to show that he's okay. Marc doesn't think about the black lines on his wrist at all in that moment, just happy that he didn't get burned. Maybe he should have, though.

Because exactly in that moment Rafa comes to them and stares at Marc's wrist and then at his face and then at his clear blue wristband. He seems to realize something and after a moment or two Marc also does.

Rafa is soulmate. Rafa, who speaks Spanish and Portuguese and has a clear blue wristband around his wrist. Rafa, who is Rafinha for everyone else, but Rafa for him.

He feels his heart beating too fast. Is that what it feels like, meeting his soulmate? He only feels anxiety, not relief because Rafa is still not moving, still not saying anything and maybe this is all is just weird coincidence, maybe he's the only one who suddenly realizes a lot, maybe Rafa is just surprised because he imagined that the lines around his wrist would be in German, maybe Rafa isn't his soulmate?

Rafa turns around and almost runs out of the door. Marc wants to go after him, but suddenly there's Leo at his side, a gentle hand holding him back and offering him another wristband. Marc takes it, but doesn't wrap it around his wrist.

"Let's go and talk," he says and Marc pretends he doesn't feel the whole team staring at them.

"I need to see him," Marc says instead because he can read Rafa's thoughts on his wrist and they're confused and lonely and he needs to hug him now. Marc doesn't understand anything anymore. Why did he just run away? Why isn't he running behind him? He should go and find him and, fuck this, he needs to see him now, but Leo's hand is strong on his back and steering him to one of the empty rooms.

"You can talk to him in a moment, you have to calm down first."

"I am calm, I just need to - " Marc doesn't say anything else because he realizes that he trembles, that he sweats too much and his breaths are coming out too sharp and harsh. His lungs doesn't seem to work and he should probably breathe, but he doesn't care, not when he has to fix this situation that he doesn't even understand. "I need to go, Leo," Marc says, but Leo is standing in front of him and it doesn't look like he's moving out of the way anytime soon.

"You need to calm down and breathe, Marc, then you can go," Leo says and it's Leo, who's usually right, so Marc tries to drag more air in his lungs and breathe. In and out. In and out.

"What does he think?" Leo asks and Marc stares down at his wrist, all the words in Portuguese now, nothing that he understands. "I don't know," he says and finally wraps Leo's wristband around it. "But I have to go."

Leo sighs and hugs him. His arms are strong around him and Marc feels his body relax a bit. "Remember to breathe, it'll be alright," he murmurs. "You're Rafa and Marc after all."

~~

Marc knows where he is.

Rafa is where he usually is when he's sad. Marc discovered the place by accident like so many other's things when it came to Rafa. Like the way Rafa planned his pranks or his pre-match ritual or Rafa's favourite restaurant in town or that he's Rafa's soulmate.

Rafa sits behind a tree, behind the training grounds. There's nothing else there, just the tree and the grass and the sky. Marc sits down next to him. They both don't say a thing, so Marc slowly, softly grabs Rafa's wrist and unwraps his band from it. He gasps as he sees his handwriting all over Rafa's beautiful brown skin, _natürlich ist Rafa hier, wo sonst_ and _er ist wunderschön, so wunderschön_ and _wieso redet er nicht mit mir?_

"Did you know?" Rafa asks, confused. Marc watches him, confused too. "Did you know we were _this_?" It feels like Rafa doesn't want to say soulmate, but the _this_ sounds as helpless and confused as Marc feels.

"No," he says. "I should have, though. It is kind of obvious. Did you?" Marc has to think about Marco and Aubameyang briefly, how the whole world knew it before them and how he promised himself not be as stupid. Turns out he's actually even more stupid.

"I thought you knew when I saw your wrist. I thought you always wore the wristband because you didn't want me to see," Rafa says and he smiles a bit. It's not a full smile, but it looks good on Rafa like everything else. "I thought you didn't want me or something, and then you didn't came and I just needed to think for a moment."

"Leo held me back," Marc answers. "He made sure that I kept breathing," it sounds silly, but Rafa nods and Marc decides it's the perfect time to kiss Rafa.

It probably isn't, but there's only the sky and the grass and the tree, Rafa's lips feel right against his, good and he looses himself in the feeling of Rafa pressing closer to him, Rafa's hands digging almost painfully in his cheeks.

"Rafael," he murmurs. "Rafael, Rafael, Rafael"

Rafa closes the gap between their lips again and smiles.

~~

They take it slow from there. Rafa sleeps sometimes at Marc's because he claims that his bed is far more comfy, but they just lay together in bed and sleep. They always end up waking up pressed close together, not an inch space between them. Marc traces the lines on Rafa's arm, the shadows and lights that the sun leaves because Rafa doesn't like to sleep with closed curtains and Marc loves to do this, wake Rafa up gently. Rafa sits beside him in the bus like he always did, but he's practically on his lap the entire time now and nobody bats an eye at them. Rafa is the first one in his arms after he held a penalty and he's the last one to leave. Rafa takes him to his favourite restaurant in Barcelona and they eat Brazilian food, until Rafa gets bored and starts to throw bits and pieces of the food at Marc, who just catches them.

They take it slow. That's what they say when someone (or better: Dani) asks. Dani just rolls his eyes at them. "You're already way too deep, go to hell with taking it slow," he grumbles and flicks Rafa's ear.

Leo smiles at them when Rafa comes to him and says "Thank you for making sure Ter breathed long enough to kiss me," he says and his face is serious, but his eyes are sparkling. Marc is just blushing and tries to ignore them all.

It feels an awful lot like love, but Marc only sees this words on their wrists, they never say them. Maybe they're not ready, but Marc doesn't think so. It's just so obvious, feels so right that they don't need to say it out loud. (He does, though, the first time they have sex, whispering over and over until he sucks Rafa's dick in his mouth and it's his part to whimper it, _I love you_ and _oh my fucking god_ , until he's coming and Marc asks if he only said it because of his amazing cock-sucking skills. "Way to ruin a moment," Rafa says laughing and pulls him up to a kiss. "I love you," he whispers. "I even love you after I have to taste my own come on your tongue, that's the true love we all crave!" Marc can't help but start laughing and they laugh until Rafa drags him into the shower and they have sex again.)

~~

Marco is appalled when he calls. "You left me dry and high with your _I found him_ message, you dick! Wasn't it possible to include a name in that?"

"You're not even bothering with a hello?" Marc has to laugh because Marco sounds pissed, but seriously, he didn't tell him either. Marc had to call and ask what was going with him and the new too fast striker in his team for Marco to realize that he should have called him.

"Hello? Fuck, no. Just tell me who it is," Marco sounds impatient and Marc honestly just forgot to call him after he sent the message, so he has pity with him. "It's someone from the team, Rafinha. He's my soulmate," and it feels so good to finally say it, tell somebody else. And although Rafa still doesn't understand a word of German, he looks up when he says soulmate. Marc smiles.

"I can't believe we found them," Marco says and Marc really wants to be beside him right in this moment, hug him and thank him. "I guess, you discovered beautiful Barcelona with the beautiful people."

"Yes," Marc answers. "I did."

He discovered beautiful Barcelona and the beautiful people in this city, he got to know the best team in the world, he learned the drinking games of Ivan's crazy friends, he's able to cook more Spanish and Brazilian dishes than German ones, he heard Camp Nou chanting his name, and most importantly he discovered the feeling of Rafinha's beard against his cheek and Rafinha's mouth against his and their hands locked together tight, he discovered _love._

**Author's Note:**

> some quick notes: 
> 
> \- this was inspired by the beautiful work of neyvenger and you should go and read it because it's way more awesome than this and she deserves all the love <3  
> \- rafa's wristband is a clear blue like marc's eyes, his subconsciousness was smarter than the rest of him  
> \- rafa actually really likes bonsais. i think he said once that he finds them calming. it's cute.  
> \- marc's wristband is dark green because his subconsciousness isn't as smart as rafa's.  
> \- marc is hugging people all the time because marc's hugs are the best hugs  
> \- merry christmas to you all <3 <3  
> \- if you want you can totally leave a comment, i'd appreciate it


End file.
